Rest In Peace
by amber1533
Summary: Anne and Henry's life through a poem, and how their love lasts.


**A poem I wrote months ago before I became obsessed with Anne Boleyn. But I feel that it fits. The poem is followed by flashes of Anne and Henry's life together.**

"_If love was truly enough _

_As to most it is they say_

_This wouldn't have been so tough_

_It wouldn't have ended this way"_

Her ghostly figure lingered over his bed. Jane Seymour was his new bride just days after he killed her. For so many years she was his, even with Catherine. He couldn't even look to any other woman, not until her tragic end. How could she let him go so quick? A tear slid down her pale face, but she smiled. He was still her love. The man she learned to love, the man who made her complete. She watched as he disowned her daughter. It broke her heart, but she still knew that her daughter would prevail. She had Boleyn and Tudor blood. She saw the letter in his pocket everyday, and she waited for him every night.

"_If love made us strong_

_Cause that's what I'm told_

_If it gave us the power to hang on_

_Then this hand we wouldn't fold."_

He always dreamed of her, even years later. She was his truest love, and he let everyone but her convince him she wasn't worthy. Her soft skin, tender lips, small but perfect breasts, he still imagined. He awoke with Jane in his bed and wished it was Anne. His waking moments were his nightmare, and his dreams became his life. His dreams of Anne Boleyn. He let himself go, he no longer cared about the way he looked, the way he talked. He should love Jane, she gave him a son. And she gave her life for Edward. He was forever grateful, forever in her debt. But he never loved her.

"_If love was the reason _

_For everything for it all_

_If it didn't matter the season_

_We couldn't help but fall"_

He kisses her lips, forehead to forehead, trusting completely that she loves him. Those beautifully dark eyes, that incredibly black hair, she wasn't just beautiful, she was magnificent. He touches her neck, so smooth, tender. A fire was brewing ever so slightly in her eyes. She desired him as much as he wanted her.

"Oh Anne." The King whispered in her ear. Corners hide them, shadows in the night. Is this love I feel? Anne wonders. Henry knew she was the one, his equal, his companion. He was no higher than her and she would challenge him everyday, but he didn't want it any other way.

"_If love really lasts forever_

_And its worth all these tears we shed_

_Then we wouldn't cry, EVER_

_But that's a lie love is dead."_

She sat in the tower, her final days. He was really going to kill her. Without even a shred of evidence. He said he loved her before they took her away. And she hadn't seen him since that day. But she would rather die by his hand than live at his side without his love. How could he stop loving her? She couldn't imagine him looking at another woman the way he looked at her. She was all that he could see. And as she walks to the scaffold, she dies adoring her King, and dies loving Henry VIII.

"_If love was somehow true,_

_And what we felt was real_

_Then I would be with you_

_You would know how I feel"_

He held her in his arms, she was shaking, scared, worried. Times were changing for them. She wasn't loved by the people like Catherine. But he didn't care about that; he wanted her to know that he loved her. She was the center of his world with the center of her world in her belly. She didn't need the stress of the people. She needed his love, and he knows that. He pulls her closer and whispers "My love, rest now, you are beautiful in every way, and it doesn't matter what the commoners think, it matters what I think. I can't even look at another woman without seeing your face; I have no desire for them. I have no desire for anyone but you my Queen. I love you, truly madly deeply."

"_But none of that is right_

_It's not at all true or fair_

_It's really not worth the fight_

_That's the truth right there."_

She looks out of her window. He is holding Jane like he held her so many years ago when Catherine was looking through this very window. She wishes she could hate him, wishes she could refuse him. Most nights he still comes to her, kisses her tenderly, and wants her completely. But during the day he is with that Seymour. Her heart was completely his, and when she dies he will still have all of her. She knew things couldn't be undone, the fights they had were becoming more frequent. And she wished they would just stop and lay together like they used to, him just holding her softly, and her feeling completely safe. But now she was breaking, her heart tearing, her smile fading. Sometimes she wished for death, it would be easier than seeing the man she loved with another woman. But she had a sweet daughter; a child she knew would do great things. After all it was in her blood.

_My great lord,_

_I forgive you for your transgressions against me, I understand that this love I have for you will never fade, and I am not able to hate you with any part of my being. I wish for you a life of peace and I pray to the Lord Christ that you will prosper in all your pursuits. I will love you forever, and even as I lay my head to rest, I am forever yours._

_Your loving servant_

_**Anne Boleyn the Queen**_

He held that letter in his vest everyday, she died loving him. And he let her die, even though he loved her completely. Somehow he felt that with this letter she was still here. And as he lay on his deathbed years later, he was grateful. He had a true love. But he was also furious, he let her die. He signed her death warrant. She was his captive, but he was her murderer. It was storming outside, lighting shot through the sky, rain was coming down, and he knew it was his last night. He held that letter and put it to the flame from the candle.

"I was forever yours Anne. And I hope in the afterlife we will have the life I stole from us on earth…" His eyes closed and his heart stopped. And as he crossed over it was her that greeted him with a smile on her face and her arms open waiting for him.

"I love you, Anne."

"I love you, Henry."


End file.
